


Wrong

by Guanin



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Agender Aziraphale, Agender Character, Agender Crowley, Aziraphale is uncomfortable having genitalia, Gen, Panic Attack, Supportive Crowley, implied emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20224600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: Aziraphale has been tasked with influencing a politician at the Roman baths. Where he'll be naked. And therefore have to grow certain body parts, never mind that he's not comfortable having them.





	Wrong

_Petronius’s Restaurant, 41 AD_

Aziraphale waited until they were done eating to bring up the matter. He had remembered it only a short while ago, but the unpleasant anticipation had been nagging him since then, prickling at the back of his mind. It had quite ruined what had been, until that unfortunate thought, a most delightful meal. The deliciousness of the oysters combined with Crowley’s enjoyable company had been a welcome respite from his troubled mind.

He didn’t see why he must be forced to do this. But he had been avoiding the baths for long enough, or so he had been told by his superiors. How was he supposed to do his job properly if he couldn’t manage something as basic as this?

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, worrying at the table with a fingernail. “I wondered if I could beg a favor of you. If you’d be willing, of course. You are under no obligation to do anything.”

Crowley peered at him from the top of his cup as he took a sip of his wine. His dark glasses made it a tad difficult to assess his expression, but he looked receptive enough.

“What is it?” Crowley asked, curious.

Aziraphale lowered his hands under the table. They were shifting too furiously to remain in public view, his apprehension too palpable.

“I don’t know if you enjoy…”

No, he couldn’t start with that.

“Have you been to the public baths?” he asked instead.

Crowley nodded, putting down his cup.

“A few times.”

“By choice or through an assignment?”

“A bit of both. Why?”

Aziraphale frowned at the table, biting his bottom lip. This was dreadfully difficult.

“I have been ordered to influence a prominent politician. He wants to meet at a bathhouse tomorrow. I’ve been told that it’s where he’ll be most receptive to being persuaded, so I must go, but…” 

Hell, this was hard to say. The food he had just consumed was pinching his gut most painfully.

“I would have to,” he continued, barely looking up at Crowley, who was frowning at him with an expression that looked very much like concern. “You know. Grow certain, um, parts.”

Aziraphale rubbed the back of his neck before clenching his hands in his lap again. Understanding dawned on Crowley’s face.

“You don’t like having them,” he said softly. 

No judgment marred his face or tone. Oh, that was such a relief. Aziraphale shook his head vehemently.

“I do not, no. It’s unpleasant. The other angels say it’s like putting on a wig, but it’s not. A wig is placed atop your body, not grown from it to become part of it. I like my body the way it is. I don’t see why I should have to meddle with it. And having that part, either of them…” 

The idea made Aziraphale’s stomach churn. He barely kept from shrinking into himself. 

“It makes me feel wrong,” he continued, shoving the words out of his mouth. “Out of joint. I… I have trouble describing it. They’re all I can focus on until I can vanish them and be myself again. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Or do I sound too sensitive?”

“No.” 

Aziraphale was taken aback by the passion of Crowley’s response. His voice had turned as hard as marble and as heated as an iron forge. 

“I mean,” Crowley continued, softening his expression, if not his tone. “You’re not being too sensitive. Yes, I do understand what you’re saying. They shouldn’t be making you do that. Fucking bastards.”

Aziraphale flinched, looking around as if Gabriel would pop up at any moment.

“Crowley!” he whispered vehemently. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t insult my fellow angels in front of me.”

Crowley sneered, but the gesture wasn’t directed at him. Not that this made it much better. 

“Your fellow angels are being assholes to you. I’ll insult them all I want. Can’t you just say no? Meet this politician somewhere else?”

Aziraphale sat up straighter, affronted by the mere suggestion of insubordination.

“You know I can’t. I can’t just disobey because it pleases me. Unlike some people, I’m happy being an angel and have no wish for a change in duties.”

“Except this one. Why can’t you see that they’re taking advantage of you? You shouldn’t have to do anything that makes you this uncomfortable, and they should not be requiring it of you.”

“It is not my place to question commands. I hear that your side is as much of a stickler for rules, so I don’t understand why you’re treating it like such a light matter.”

“Sure, I have to follow orders if I don’t want to be boiled alive, but sometimes there are loopholes. It’s more about following the spirit of the order than the exact instructions. As long as hell gets what it wants, who cares how it got done? The same goes for heaven.”

Aziraphale raised a skeptical eyebrow. His fingers continued to flutter nervously under the table.

“You’ll pardon me if I don’t take the word of someone who was thrown out of heaven for not following the rules.”

Crowley titled his head down to glare at Aziraphale over his dark glasses. Aziraphale relented, guilt itching under his skin.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he said miserably. “I don’t want to risk…” Aziraphale shivered at the unthinkable possibility of being thrust from God’s Grace and into the torment of hell. “Well, anything.”

“They’re not going to throw you out for disobeying one time.” Crowley’s words were firm, but his tone was gentle. “I wouldn’t tell you to do so if it put you at risk. I would never wish my existence on you.”

A bitter expression crossing his face, Crowley turned away and took a long, heavy swig of his wine. It refilled with a blink. He drank again. 

“Is it truly that bad?” Aziraphale asked.

He knew it must be, but it pained him to think that Crowley’s quality of life was so poor that he recoiled at the mere thought of it. 

“What kind of question is that?” Crowley asked, face twisting with affront “Of course it is.”

“But life on Earth is better, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Loads. Why are we talking about me? This is about you. Look, it’s not the end of the world if you bend one, little order. They want you to influence this guy, right? So do that. Just don’t do it at the baths. Use your powers to convince him to meet somewhere else.”

Aziraphale squirmed in his seat. 

“I don’t know. I really should follow instructions. Look, I didn’t tell you this so that you would talk me out of it. I was going to ask if you would be kind enough to accompany me to the baths. I should be alright as long as I’m in the company of someone who knows and understands.”

“Won’t your politician mind me third wheeling?”

“No. He won’t mind at all. You could leave us alone for a bit, perhaps, but stay nearby. I just…” Aziraphale sucked in a worried breath. “I just want someone there. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Crowley tapped the side of his cup with a displeased frown. Aziraphale’s hope sank to the bottom of his stomach. Crowley was going to refuse. Well, Aziraphale would have to make do.

“Fine I’ll do it,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale’s brows rose and he leaned forward eagerly, a grateful smile curling his lips.

“Really?” 

“Yes, although I still think you shouldn’t. This isn’t going to be good for you.”

“Well, it’s all for the greater good.”

Crowley sighed with melodramatic despair. 

“Don’t start with one of your holier than thou speeches, please.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t about to. Although I am holier than thou.”

Crowley raised an irritated eyebrow at him with a “really?” expression. Aziraphale sat up straighter, ignoring the awkwardness of his simple statement.

“Well, I am,” he said, a bit apologetically so that Crowley wouldn’t withdraw his favor. “It’s a fact.”

`````````````````

Despite Crowley’s clear annoyance, he didn’t back down from his promise. Upon the appointed time the next day, he arrived at Aziraphale’s house, ready for a relaxing afternoon at the baths. 

Well, anyone else would find it relaxing. Aziraphale would too, if he could go as himself with his body unchanged, and not have to add on, as it were. Since he and Crowley had parted ways, he had been trying to clear his mind and put the coming meeting aside, but it preyed on his concentration like terminates on wood. He didn’t know how to shut off the nerves. He really was making far too much of this, he was sure of it. It would only be for a couple of hours. That should be long enough for him to be able to make his excuses and flee.

Leave. And leave. No fleeing. He was an angel. A principality. He was not scared. 

Alright, perhaps a little apprehensive. It really would be so much easier to focus on his task if he didn’t have to contend with this one detail. 

Oh, who was he kidding? He was terrified. All of last night, he had tried to picture growing those body parts, but the memory of having them hanging off him, of feeling the alien strangeness of them, the screaming feeling of “these do not belong” left him wincing and curling up in a ball on his sofa. 

He couldn’t do this. 

But he had to do this. It had been 4,000 years. He couldn’t expect to be able to get away with never being seen naked by a human for the rest of time. And going to the baths was such a basic aspect of socializing among Romans. Already, he’d had to fabricate excuse after excuse to get out of going to one with friends, some of whom had become suspicious, doubtlessly wondering if there was something wrong with his body. There wasn’t. That was the problem. He was perfectly happy with his natural shape. He didn’t mind tucking away his wings to blend in, but this… 

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Crowley asked him immediately after saying “hello”. “It’s not too late to invent some family emergency to excuse yourself.”

Aziraphale hesitated, lips working soundlessly, barely shoving away a treacherous “no” as he fiddled with the clasp holding his toga in place.

“Yes, I’m quite sure,” he said, only stumbling a little over his words. 

He ducked his face away from Crowley’s skeptical gaze like a coward.

“Alright,” Crowley said, no less skeptical. “If you insist, it’d be less risky to get it all sorted here.”

There was no need for Crowley to specify exactly what he was referring to. Aziraphale sucked in a deep breath, which trembled too intensely in the exhalation.

“Right,” he said, pressing his lips together. “Good point.”

Crowley’s eyes softened.

“Or we can wait until we get there. Find a quiet spot.”

“No, it would be easier here. So I’ll just… um, get on with it, then.”

Why was he swinging his arms back and forth and flapping his hands? He needed to stop thinking about this and get on with it already. 

Crowley was staring at him. That’s why he couldn’t do it. How could anyone do anything while being studied like that?

Crowley seemed to guess his thoughts and turned away, pretending to be interested in a potted plant by the corner. 

Right. No more being observed. Time to get it over with. 

He flinched, a whine escaping from his throat. He’d focused and it started happening, but it was so strange and invasive and _wrong_. 

“Aziraphale?”

Crowley touched his shoulder. Aziraphale wasn’t even aware of Crowley rushing towards him. Aziraphale’s entire being trembled, body sweating, the urge to cry strangling him. He grabbed Crowley’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline.

“I’m…”

He started saying that he was fine, but he wasn’t fine. He was so far from being fine. 

“I think you should sit down,” Crowley said. “Do you want to sit down?”

Jerkily, Aziraphale nodded, starting to move to the nearest chair, but his legs bent under him. With a quick click of his fingers, Crowley miracled a sofa under him and Aziraphale sank into it with a grateful breath. Crowley sat down next to him, keeping his hand on his shoulder. At some point, he’d removed his dark glasses, no longer hiding the concern in his eyes as he peered at Aziraphale, who wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with a good book and forget all this business about influencing people and adding on body parts that he neither wanted nor needed. 

“I don’t mean to pressure you,” Crowley said slowly and carefully. “But have you reconsidered?”

“Yes, alright?” The words burst out of Aziraphale’s mouth fair more desperately than he’d intended to. “I changed my mind. You’re right. I shouldn’t do this. I’ll just send Agrippa a message begging my excuses and telling him that I’ll visit him at some other time. Tomorrow. He should have some time tomorrow. At his house, not at the baths. That should… That should work.”

As soon as he said so, his breathing flowed a lot more easily. 

Oh. That was better. Crowley’s hand on his shoulder helped enormously, as well. Aziraphale turned to him, trying to smile. He partly succeeded.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t heed your advice earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s hard to get any half-rebellious thought through that angelic head of yours. Are you calmer now? You look a little calmer.”

Aziraphale straightened his back and breathed in deeply. His breath was still altered, but it was almost back to normal now, and he no longer felt like the roof was about to collapse on him with no chance of escape. He nodded, smiling again. He did a much better job of it this time. 

“I am calmer,” he said. “It’s odd how upset I got. It’s such a little thing, really.”

“It’s not a little thing. No little thing could get you into this state. You shouldn’t have to do anything that makes you this uncomfortable, especially not when there’s a loophole. Promise me that you won’t try to do this again unless there isn’t a loophole.”

Well, now that was too bold. Crowley couldn’t just demand that he promise things like that. There might come a time when he’d have no choice. He would never go so far as rebelling, no matter what Crowley said.

But when Aziraphale met Crowley’s eyes, his protest died in his mouth. Urgent concern shone in Crowley’s eyes as he pleaded with Aziraphale to do as he asked for his own good. Aziraphale had never seen him look so worried before. 

“I promise,” Aziraphale said, at a loss for what else to say. 

Crowley’s shoulders sagged, expelling a ball of tension that Aziraphale hadn’t even realized that he’d been holding. Warmth blossomed in Aziraphale’s chest at his friend’s concern. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Crowley said. “You’re not injuring yourself on my watch.”

A genuine smile brightened Aziraphale’s lips this time.


End file.
